A/N: Hello everyone c: Brand new fanfic wooooo. Credit to Gracie_x for the prompt and for being a lovely beta (psst, check out her stories)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Sherlock franchise or any characters
"Mycroft, do I really have to stay here for the next three weeks?" Sherlock groaned.
"It's nice here. You'll get some fresh air. And you know that mum and dad are having issues, and I don't have time to watch over you." Mycroft sighed. "Just behave please. If I get a call saying that you blew something up, I'll send you to boarding school."
"Whatever." Sherlock looked around at the camp, wondering what exactly it could offer him. "I'm the oldest person here." It was true. As he looked around, he realized that most of the campers appeared to be 8-13, which put him at least three years ahead of everyone here.
"No, you aren't. The counselors have to be 18 to work here." Mycroft grinned. "Please just make the best of it, Sherlock. It's only two weeks."
Sherlock chose not to reply. Mycroft sighed again.
"Let's check you in then." Sherlock reluctantly followed his brother, wondering how he could get sent home early.
)
"Bye guys! I'll see you in a couple weeks!" John grinned, excited to be back at camp. This year was going to be especially fun, because he got to be a counselor instead of a camper.
"Bye John! Be safe." His mum yelled.
John rolled his eyes but nodded.
They drove off, leaving John to take in the familiar surroundings. He had been coming to camp for as long as he could remember and he always had to be dragged away at the end of the two weeks. John walked towards the mess hall, where he was checked in, exchanging hellos with people he recognized.
"Hey Michael, I'm here. Which cabin is mine?" Every counselor was assigned a cabin, and that counselor had the kids in that cabin.
"Um, it says here that you're in 7. Go ahead and put your stuff in there, and introduce yourself to the campers." Michael was the head counselor. He'd been coming to the camp for twelve years, 5 as a counselor. He pretty much knew the entire camp back to front.
"Great. Thanks!" John located his cabin, threw his stuff onto the bed marked with his name, and went off to find his campers. All campers were given a wristband with a certain color that correlated with their cabin number. Cabin 7 was green. He quickly located his kids, and played a short introduction game, before taking them back to the cabin to unload their stuff.
"How many of you have been here before?" John asked. Five of the kids raised their hands. "Alright, will you guys lead the other campers to the mess hall and take them to our table? It will have a green sign in front of it."
While his kids were getting seated, he went off in search of Michael so he could get his activities folder. He had just spotted him when he suddenly collided with someone, knocking them both over.
"Oh, sorry! I should have been watching where I was going." John scrambled to his feet. "Let me help you." John extended a hand to the dark haired boy currently on the ground.
Sherlock took it, and John pulled him up.
"Sorry about that." John realized that the boy in front of him was around his age, far too old to be a regular camper. It was after a couple seconds that he realized he was staring, and not saying a word.
"I'll, uh, see you around, alright?" John stammered, feeling silly. Sherlock nodded, and went to find his table.
Michael appeared behind John, laughing. "First day, and already you're getting hurt." John was known for his clumsiness at camp.
"Shove off. Who is that kid?" John asked, suddenly intrigued.
"Uh, Sherlock, I believe. It's his first year here. He's your age." Michael paused. "Why do you want to know?"
"No reason. Can I get my activities folder?" John asked, remembering why he had been looking for Michael in the first place.
John was flipping through his folder when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up to see no other than Sherlock staring straight at him. John glanced down, suddenly embarrassed, though he wasn't quite sure why.
)
Sherlock was sitting on the steps outside his cabin trying to make a phone call when the boy he had bumped into earlier came and sat beside him.
"You aren't supposed to have those, you know." John teased.
"What they don't know won't hurt them." Sherlock replied, wondering why the boy was even bothering him.
"I suppose not." John paused. "My name is John, by the way."
"Hello John." Sherlock said, not offering up his own name. Maybe if he was rude to him, John would leave him alone. He really was not in the mood to make friends at the moment. He was currently trying to get a good enough signal to call his parents and complain, and see if they would pick him up.
"Well, it was nice talking, I suppose." John smirked. It had been a fairly one-sided conversation. "Good night Sherlock." Sherlock blinked. He hadn't told John his name, but yet, he had known it, making it obvious that the other man had asked about him.
Sherlock couldn't imagine why someone like John was even trying to be nice to him.
Sherlock sighed, his phone call still not going through. He decided to try again in the morning. He could get through one night in this hellhole, right?
A/N: Wooooo, one chapter down. I hope you like the story so far, and ofc go check out my beta Gracie_x